Chapter 296: What Does a Spinster Know About Marriage?

The gasps that rippled through the lobby was music to Diana’s ears. She sat back against the silk pillow in her wheelchair, basking in the wide-eyed stares of her friends.

"Divorcing?" Beatrice breathed, clutching her diamond necklace. "Diana, is this true?"

"Tragically, yes," Diana sighed, her voice dripping with fake, theatrical sorrow. She leaned forward, lowering her voice as if she were sharing a state secret, though she ensured it was loud enough for the entire circle to hear.

"They aren’t even sleeping in the same room," Diana spilled the tea, shaking her head. "They haven’t spoken a single word to each other. My brother completely cut her off. The marriage is in shambles."

The socialites exchanged thrilled, scandalous glances. They were eating it up. A billionaire divorce was the equivalent of the Super Bowl for these women.

"I brought her tonight as my plus-one because I wanted to give the poor girl one last taste of luxury before she has to pack her cheap little bags and move back into a studio apartment," Diana continued, pressing a hand to her chest.

Diana looked up at Aria over her shoulder, a triumphant smirk plastered across her face.

Aria stared down at her sister-in-law.

For a split second, there was total silence.

And then, Aria threw her head back and let out a loud, bright, delighted laugh.

The sound cut through the tense lobby like a silver bell.

Diana’s smirk faltered. Her brows pulled together. "What is so funny?"

Aria stepped around the back of the wheelchair, placing herself right in the center of the circle of women.

"Please, tell me," Aria addressed the socialites directly, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "In all your years of marriage, have you never banished your husbands to the guest room for being annoying?"

Susan, the woman with the vintage Hermès clutch, blinked. A smile tugged at her lips. "Well... my Arthur did sleep in the den for three days after he bought a yacht without consulting me."

"Exactly," Aria beamed, waving a hand. "A little fight is completely normal. Honestly, it just makes the make-up sex that much better."

A few of the older women giggled behind their hands, entertained by Aria’s bluntness.

Aria then turned her gaze down to the woman in the wheelchair.

"But of course, Diana wouldn’t know that," Aria sighed, her voice dropping into a tone of condescending pity. "It’s so cute how she thinks a minor marital squabble means an immediate divorce."

Aria tilted her head.

"But how could she possibly understand how a relationship works? She’s never been married. She’s never even come close. It’s honestly just sad how she projects her lonely, spinster insecurities onto my marriage."

The wealthy women looked at Diana with snickering and thinly veiled pity. Aria had effortlessly exposed the pathetic, glaring hole in Diana’s life: she was a bitter, aging woman with no ring and no prospects, desperately clinging to her brother’s coattails.

"Poor Diana," Beatrice murmured softly to Susan, loud enough for Diana to hear. "She really has been alone for so long."

Diana’s face flushed a shade of crimson. She gripped the armrests of her wheelchair, paralyzed by the humiliation. She was the joke. Again.

"Take me inside," Diana hissed through her teeth, not daring to look at her friends. "Now."

"Of course, darling," Aria smiled sweetly, grabbing the rubber handles. "Whatever you need."

The auction hall of Sotheby’s was a breathtaking cathedral of wealth. The walls were paneled in rich, dark mahogany. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the soaring ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow over the sea of plush, velvet-cushioned chairs arranged in neat rows.

At the front of the room sat a raised, lit stage equipped with a sleek wooden podium and multiple high-definition screens to display the lots. Waiters in crisp white gloves glided silently down the aisles, carrying silver trays of vintage champagne. The room smelled of old money, expensive perfume, and high-stakes greed.

Aria wheeled Diana about a third of the way down the center aisle.

"Alright," Aria announced breezily, adjusting the strap of her black clutch. "Enjoy the show."

She turned on her heel and started walking away.

Diana whipped her head around in panic. "Wait! Aria! Where are you going?!"

"To find a seat," Aria replied over her shoulder, not breaking her stride.

"You can’t just leave me in the middle of the aisle!" Diana shrieked, her voice echoing slightly before she remembered to lower it. She slapped the wheels of her chair. "Are you expecting me to push myself?!"

"Consider it physical therapy," Aria waved dismissively, disappearing into the crowd.

"You bitch!" Diana cursed under her breath. She frantically waved her hand in the air at a passing waiter. "You! Push me to a table! Now!"

Aria navigated her way to the very back of the hall, slipping into a dimly lit corner seat in the last row. It offered a perfect, unobstructed vantage point of the entire room.

She scanned the crowd. Three rows ahead and slightly to the left, she spotted platinum blonde hair and a pastel-pink suit. Zoe was sitting with a bit of a slump, holding a numbered bidding paddle in her lap.

Aria reached up and tapped the AirPod in her ear.

"I have eyes on you," Aria whispered softly into the mic. "Stay in character, Tiffany. I’m going to mute my mic so I don’t distract you with my breathing, but I am still listening. Just wait for the media company lots. And sit up straight."

"Copy that," Zoe’s tired voice replied in her ear.

Aria had at least forty-five minutes before Vale Entertainment hit the auction block. She needed a distraction.

Aria opened the TikTok app.

Her For You page was still a wasteland of conspiracies about her coma, but she swiped past them, heading straight to the search bar to find the Lucas, Bella, Leo beef.

There it was. The soft-launch photo.

Aria tapped on the image of Leo sleeping soundly in a messy hotel bed, Bella’s hand resting intimately in his hair.

Aria zoomed in on the photo.

’It doesn’t make sense,’ Aria thought, chewing on her lower lip. ’There’s no way would Leo stoop that low to actually sleep with her.’

But then...how did she get in his bedroom?

Aria’s thumbs hovered over the screen when a sudden movement in her peripheral vision pulled her attention.

Aria looked up.

A tall figure had just stepped into the aisle next to her. The man slid into the empty chair beside her.

"Is this seat taken?" a deep, smooth voice asked.